


Stumbling, Tumbling, Falling into You

by dancermk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: First Night Together, Homophobic Language, Internal Monologue, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Mickey, Soft Mickey Milkovich, fits in with canon or could be any universe when Mickey first falls for Ian, mickey falling in love, teenage ian and mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancermk/pseuds/dancermk
Summary: This is Mickey's internal dialogue after they share their first night together - it is canon compliant but it could be in any universe where Mickey is coming to terms with falling in love with Ian.  They are 16 and 18 in this fic. It's only short but it's sweet.EXTRACT:This is the first time they’ve been fully naked in front of each other. The first time fucking without a shred of clothing to hide behind. Although Ian’s had him stripped bare for so long now – slithered right up under his flannel shirts and took up residence under his skin. Ian never asked permission and he sure as fuck didn’t give his consent. But that’s how it is even though they don’t talk about it.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 53
Kudos: 238





	Stumbling, Tumbling, Falling into You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> This is a little different for me - the sort of thing I write when I'm emotional - but don't normally post. I hope you like it! It feels very personal to me for some reason. 
> 
> If you haven't had the chance - check out my recently completed multi-chapter "Captive" or my current WIP "Meet me at the Track"

Mickey’s heart is thumping loud and heavy against his ribs as his eyes sweep up and down the length of Ian’s naked body. It’s the morning after their first night together, sharing his worn-out old bed, in his thread-bare sheets. Everyone is gone and the house is empty and the quiet unnerves him as much as it calms him. Chaos is normal and this isn’t chaos. No, far from it.

Because Gallagher is here. They’re together now, and there’s no denying it. Not anymore. Mickey’s been tumbling and falling since the day they met. Ian makes him feel unbalanced and off kilter and wild and reckless. And he hates it, and he loves it, and it’s confusing as all fuck.

This is the first time they’ve been fully naked in front of each other. The first time fucking without a shred of clothing to hide behind. Although Ian’s had him stripped bare for so long now – slithered beneath his flannel shirts and took up residence under his skin. Ian never asked permission and he sure as fuck didn’t give his consent. But that’s how it is even though they don’t talk about it.

Ian’s body fascinates him – the pale pale skin, the freckles, the sharp edge of the V and the slightly crooked jaw. It’s all perfectly imperfect and he’s happy to have this moment to just drink Ian in. Drown, get drunk. Because he’s never been able to truly look before. A man doesn’t look at another man like that. Doesn’t focus in on the details of what makes one human so very different from another. But today, he’s allowing it; he’s giving himself this gift. This intimacy.

Ian is sound asleep lying on his back, one leg bent up. One arm is resting across his stomach and the other is above his head. Mickey smiles, stupid fucker is gonna have a seriously dead arm. Ian’s face is relaxed, and he looks young and innocent, and sometimes Mickey forgets Ian is two years younger. Fuck, he’s only sixteen and still has some baby fat on his face.

Red lashes. Mickey’s fascinated by those red lashes and the freckles on his eyelids. What the fuck is up with that? He’s got the prettiest lips and Mickey wants to reach out and trace them with his finger. But not yet. Right at this moment, it’s just them and it feels like time is standing still. And Mickey has Ian all to himself.

They had a perfect night, and his sore ass is a testament to that. Mickey likes the residual pain, he can take it away with him, and it’s his secret as he goes about his day, thinking about how he felt with Ian’s cock reaching deep inside of him. He bites down on his bottom lip, a blush creeping up his neck at the thought of what they did to each other. In the dark. Ian’s seen every part of him—the most intimate parts – and has laid his fingers and tongue and mouth upon them. Gently and lovingly. And hard and wanting.

There’s no going back to _before._ Not that the stubborn fuck would let him, anyway. Always pushing. Always wanting more than Mickey wants to give. That’s Ian with his sad and hopeful green eyes that sometimes look blue, and Mickey has to take a second look to be sure. Those green eyes look at him like he’s something and that shit’s addictive.

Mickey inches a little closer looking at the red hair on Ian’s legs. His legs are so fucking long. When did Ian get so tall? Mickey likes the changes and watches with interest as the boy becomes a man. Ian is in metamorphosis and Mickey thinks he will emerge as something far beyond his reach. Jaw widening. Muscles appearing out of nowhere. Ian always holds him tight when they fuck, like he’s scared Mickey will make a run for it. He snorts—as if! As if he’d ever run from Ian. _To_ Ian, maybe. Yeah, he’d run _to_ Ian. He does. 

He never wanted anything until he wanted Ian Gallagher. Was content with his shitty lot in life. Ian ruined that, and now he wants. Wants shit he can’t have. So this—right now—is perfect. Ian. In his bed. Naked. Probably a onetime deal and Mickey shouldn’t be fucking greedy. It’s dangerous to want shit.

Ian’s dick is laying soft against his thigh. It’s long, even when flaccid, and it’s covered in a sprinkling of faint freckles. Mickey likes it like this for some reason. To look at it now, you couldn’t guess what that cock can do. But when it’s fucking hard, Jesus, what he wouldn’t do to get it inside him. The freckles sort of fade, and that palest of skin darkens, and it curves as if it were made for Mickey’s body.

He didn’t suck Ian’s dick for the longest time. Seemed too gay, like kissing. But they kiss now, have for a while. And he was right all along—kissing is for fags. When he started kissing Ian, he knew for sure. Mickey’s a fag. A fag for Ian Gallagher. There was no stopping it once they started kissing. The stumbling, the tumbling, the falling.

Falling. He’s got no fucking control. Anymore.

He belongs to Ian. He’s Ian’s fag. With perfect kisses that make him forget his own fucking name. They kissed so much last night. Before, during, after. He still pretends he doesn’t like it or need it. But Ian knows. Ian can feel his skin ablaze with heat when their tongues slide against each other. Mickey’s cock hardens and he knows it’s nearly time. He needs him again - just like a crack whore needs a hit. So he can breathe, and feel fucking alive.

Mickey wants to kiss him, wants to suck on those lips, then down the column of his throat, circle his tongue around soft, pink nipples until they rise under his touch. Wants to lap at that sleeping cock and suck it into his mouth until it swells and fills him up. Takes away that void deep inside him. Only Ian can do that. Fill him. Make the pain fade.

He reaches out and strokes through Ian’s hair. Once. Twice. Flaming red hair. Ian sets Mickey on fucking fire.

Ian sighs, then swallows. He’s beautiful—his Ian. He wants to keep him.

Now that he’s fallen.

Deeply.

Unequivocally.

In love.

Just the thought sends a shudder through his body. One day he’ll have to own it - man up and say it – because it will demand to be said, something this strong, this unyielding. But not yet. He’ll keep it to himself a little longer. Where it’s safe and can’t be taken away from him. Tucked deep inside where no one can see, not even Ian. Not yet. But someday.

Mickey leans forward and connects their lips—Ian’s mouth is lax, and it feels strange. But it’s soft and pure. He licks across Ian’s bottom lip as delicately as he can, eliciting a moan. Mickey kisses again, sucking on Ian’s bottom lip. A strong hand wraps around his back. Sliding his hand down Ian’s stomach, he grasps his dick, feeling it harden in his hand.

“Mickey,” Ian sighs into his mouth.

“Get on me, Gallagher.”

Laying down on his back, he pulls Ian on top of him.

No one’s home. It’s just them. Ian and Mickey.

And then Ian is inside him, holding him tightly and looking at him like he matters. Like he’s something. He’s floating, his body exploding with pleasure. Ian makes him feel safe. And free. He should tell Ian that he’s fallen. Madly. Crazy. Fucking head over heels.

But not yet.

Not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos and comment if you enjoyed it! It always means a lot to me when someone presses that kudos button or takes the time to add a comment.
> 
> I am working on the next chapter of Meet me at the track - won't be too far away! It's just a little complex and layered and it might need to be split into two chapters - we'll see!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Take care!!  
> Rach x


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